Forgiven
by GoodGollyGopher
Summary: What took place after CM Punk saved Serena in the bar, after Serena saved CM Punk from Kane, and after CM Punk forgave Serena.


**Rating**: PG-13/Soft R  
><strong>CharactersPairings**: CM Punk/Serena Deeb; Luke Gallows; Joey Mercury  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: Teeny bit of violence, general threateningness, the usual (awesome) creepiness that seems to follow the SES and Punk/Serena around, and implied sex.  
><strong>Notes<strong>: I wrote this before Joey Mercury was revealed to be the masked man (I have edited his name in there, since we know who he is now), and published it on my Livejournal on July 18, 2010.

**I.** He was already at the car, waiting for her as he held open the door. Even as he did this, he wouldn't look at her, instead focusing on some point above her head. He didn't look at her as she reached out to touch him, tears stinging her eyes. He didn't look at her as he violently jerked himself away from her hand; didn't look at her as he told her, voice flat, dark, "Get in the car."

Serena did as she was told, sliding into the rear left seat, the seat behind Gallows, whose disgust radiated from him in waves, so thick it was almost palpable. Next to Luke, Joey turned to look at her, his eyes sad- hurt, almost- before shaking his head and turning away.

Serena's thoughts, though, were on Punk- as they were most of the time. She kept her eyes averted as he took the right-hand seat beside her, just that middle bump of fabric separating them. Only when the keys turned, only when they had started moving, did she lift her gaze slowly, slowly, to his face.

He was sitting, staring straight ahead. The silence in the air was thick, suffocating, oppressive- she felt she would drown in it. Desperate, she reached out for him, for her saviour, her fingers barely brushing the skin of his arm. But once more he yanked himself away from her, saying, "Don't touch me." And as he spoke, he finally looked at her, his eyes icy, and the burning in her eyes became too much to ignore.

II. "Punk, _please_!"

He'd gone into the Straight Edge Society's locker room and shut the door, locking it behind him. She'd arrived moments too late, her palms smacking solidly against the wood of the door just as she heard the lock click. Knowing it was useless, she rattled the handle for one second, two seconds, three. It was then that she gave up, falling to her knees in front of the unmoving door. One final plea escaped her lips before she finally fell silent, head bowed.

It was only then that he opened the door, mask still on, and she looked up, her mouth already forming the words for another apology, another, another, and another. But before she could speak, he held up his hand, palm out, shaking his head. "Stop. Get up."

Slowly, her eyes never leaving him, she did as he told her to, taking a hesitant step towards him, hand outstretched- but he turned away from her grasp, gesturing for her to step inside. She did as Punk told her to, as she always did, taking slow, deliberate steps into the room and waiting- waiting for him to tell her what he wanted her to do next. She waited as she heard the door close behind her, as the lock clicked into place again; waited as she counted his footsteps- one, two, three- until he was in front of her,

Serena had expected anything but the sudden connection of the back of his hand with her cheek, the sound of it loud and stunningly sharp in the otherwise silent room. A red imprint burning and tingling on her skin, she fell back a step, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"You know you deserved that." His tone was flat, matter-of-fact, and through the mask his eyes were impassive as they met hers. Touching a hand to her cheek, Serena nodded once, her agreement with him silent but clear.

"I know why you did what you did, Serena. I know. I understand. But that doesn't mean it was right. That doesn't mean you should have done it. You disobeyed me, Serena." Punk stretched his unbound hand out towards her, and Serena closed her eyes in anticipation of his touch- any touch, any connection, anything at all would do, even another punishing slap, would be better than the unbearable coldness he had shown her tonight- her tongue darting nervously over her lips. Punk stopped, though, before his fingers made contact with her skin, his hand hovering just over the curve of her shoulder. "The world shouldn't have seen that. I know it's hard for you sometimes- I understand that, Serena. I do. But _they_ won't. They'll just see it as a failure, as _proof_ that the Straight Edge Society isn't what I've been telling them it is, isn't what I know- what we know it is. Now, Serena- now they have an excuse to see you as weak- to see you as a failure and nothing else."

Punk stopped, his hand dropping away as he looked toward the ceiling, taking in a deep breath and letting it out in a sigh before looking back at her. "When I found out where you were that night, I was going to go get you- to go save you- by myself. I wasn't going to bring the others. But I told Gallows where I was going and- well, you know how he gets. So I _had_ to bring them. I had to make an example out of you, Serena. And now I have to do that again."

Serena was silent for a moment, staring at him. Finally, swallowing, she spoke- "Punk, I-"

He interrupted her once more, this time not with words or a slap, but by pushing her roughly against the wall, his face suddenly inches from hers. "_Nobody_ else should have seen you like that. _Nobody_. I'm the only one who should ever have seen you like that. _Me_."

Serena felt her breath hitch at his sudden intensity, his absolute conviction; felt herself stop breathing for a few heartbeats as his hand came up to cup her cheek, his fingers lining up with the fading hand print he had left there when she first entered this room.

"You belong to me, Serena." His lips almost touching hers, his breath mingling with hers, she was only able to say his name, to repeat it, as she leaned towards him, into him. But he pulled back, took his hand, his breath, his warmth from her and leaving her cold. Punk's eyes met with hers, and his voice was once again emotionless, impassive. "But I haven't forgiven you yet."

And, once again, he left her.

III. He had her against the wall again, his body pressed against hers- but she knew it would be different this time. This time he wouldn't leave her; this time, he'd stay.

Serena knew this because of the handful of words Punk spoke, the words that were so simple but meant so, so much- "You belong to me, Serena. And I forgive you." 


End file.
